


01000100 01101111 01110010 01101011 01110011

by Hella_Queer



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: College AU, M/M, Math nerd Kageyama, this is too long for no reason lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-07 06:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14074521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hella_Queer/pseuds/Hella_Queer
Summary: Math nerds weren’t supposed to be hot.Kageyama Tobio is the outlier.





	01000100 01101111 01110010 01101011 01110011

*

*

*

Math nerds weren’t supposed to be hot. 

Don’t get him wrong, Hinata hates giving in to stereotypes. Humans are beautiful, complex, multifaceted creatures who deserve to be more than just labels based on their hobbies or how they dressed. But there was a _line_ , okay? A very thick and detailed line that certain people seemed to be oblivious to. 

Nerds were supposed to be shy, cute and innocent and maybe a little overeager when faced with people outside of the circumstance of their friend group. They were _not_ supposed to be tall, athletic, monstrously attractive men with eyes that glittered while doing long division. Those were two things that just couldn’t be mixed, like cereal and coffee, or cupcakes and hot sauce. They just didn’t work! 

Hinata wasn’t the best at math but he wasn’t terrible. Once he understood an equation, and had practiced it a few times, he usually flew through the homework. Tests were another matter, but everything added up to him being in the same class as Kageyama “knows too many digits of pi” Tobio. Hinata was convinced the universe was testing him when he and Kageyama were paired up to do all the ‘fun’ in class experiments. 

They were doing ratios of the human body, a fun little game Hinata remembered from middle school. Back then only the teacher was allowed to handle the rope, because thirteen year olds underestimate their abilities to injure each other with simple, mundane objects. Holding the thick spool of string now makes Hinata feel nervous. 

“Do you want me to do you first?” Hinata looks up from the clipboard listing the experiments and swallows back a sound he doesn’t want to make in the middle of his classroom. Kageyama has the sleeves of his white button down rolled up, exposing his muscled forearms. What a damn loaded question that was. 

“A-ah sure. I guess it doesn’t matter.” Hinata double checks what they need to do then takes his shoes off. “First you gotta cut the string to my height.” 

He hears a snicker from the group behind them. “That’s a short string,” someone mutters, causing everyone around them to laugh. Hinata’s smile is strained as he turns to flip them off, forcing a laugh of his own. He’s been getting the same shitty lines thrown at him since high school, so he tries not to let it show how it annoys him. He turns back to Kageyama, who’s watching him intently. 

Hinata raises an eyebrow. “Well? You gonna do me or what?” He’d like to imagine he sees a faint blush on Kageyama’s cheeks as he starts unraveling the string. 

They take turns getting their strings, Hinata standing on a chair in order to get Kageyama’s as accurate as possible. Afterwards the jerk has the nerve to hold them up side by side and compare them, but he doesn’t comment more than widening his eyes a little. He’s wearing his glasses today, black, rectangular frames that sit up high on his long, straight nose. 

Hinata records the length of their strings—wheezing a little at Kageyama’s numbers—and tries in vain to hide the information from his partner. He isn’t successful. 

“You’re five foot _four_?” Kageyama sounds choked. “How much do you weigh?”

Hinata, still standing on the chair, scoffs and crosses his arms. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to ask a man what he weighs? It’s rude!” He was used to Kageyama and his complete lack of social skills by now, but commenting on anyone’s weight wasn’t really something people did unless they were being mean. 

Ignoring his words completely, Kageyama drops the clipboard on their table and puts his big hands on Hinata’s small shoulders. He pushes down a bit, flinching slightly at Hinata’s squeaking protests at the sudden touch. He grips his upper arms and squeezes, then makes to lift him without putting any strength behind it. 

“W-what are you _doing_?” Hinata can’t believe what’s happening. The most contact he and Kageyama have had were when their hands brushed together while passing papers or borrowed pencils. His locks down his muscles so he won’t fall off the chair, or worse, reach out and touch him back. 

Kageyama tilts his head just a bit, eyes closed behind his glasses. “One hundred and.. twenty-two pounds?” He opens his eyes and looks Hinata up and down, a slow drag that leaves him feeling exposed. “Give or take a few ounces.”

“How–how did you..?” He feels a chill run down his spine and hops off the chair, glancing at Kageyama every few seconds as he puts his shoes back on. The other man doesn’t seem fazed by his partner’s reaction. He waits patiently, playing with the string as he reads over their list again. His glasses slip down to the edge of his nose, and instead of pushing them with with his finger he scrunches up his nose and cheeks to move them back into place. Like some kind of adorable chipmunk. 

“Please only use your freaky math powers for good,” Hinata says once he finds his voice. He grabs Kageyama’s string and holds it up. “Like getting me a good grade. Guess how many times your string can wrap around your head.”

“I already know the answer, so guessing is pointless.” 

Hinata groans loudly. “Look, we get to leave as soon as we hand this stuff in, and I want an iced coffee before the cart closes.” He moves closer and starts winding the string around Kageyama’s head, right around his eyebrows. “Just fill out the papers and pretend like this is challenging.”

Kageyama huffs a laugh, short and a little shy. “Or what?” He keeps his head still at the very least. Hinata's fingers touch surprisingly soft, raven black hair as he winds the string three times around Kageyama's head. He wants to linger, tangle his fingers in the strands and see if it’s thin or thick. Does it curl in the shower? How messy does it get when Kageyama sleeps? 

“Or I’ll beat you with our textbooks.” Hinata looks down at the paper and sees that Kageyama has basically finished it. Everyone else is chatting with their partner or the group next to them, taking their time. He looks back at Kageyama, hoping against hope that he can find something interesting enough to talk about that will hold his attention. He opens his mouth.

“I could bench press you,” Kageyama says casually, believing he’s offering a fact when in reality he’s giving Hinata heart palpitations. “You’re nearly five times as heavy as the weights I use. It would be a good challenge.” 

Hinata blushes up to his ears and tries hard not to groan or scream or do anything that gives away just how much Kageyama’s words affect him. 

This is exactly what Hinata is talking about! Kageyama Tobio was some kind of mythical being. The man didn’t seem to talk to anyone else, and when they first met all he did was frown and scowl and huff irritably whenever Hinata’s things spilled over to his side of the desk. And now he’s talking about manhandling Hinata like gym equipment. He isn’t _mad_ about it, but the drastic change in character is throwing him off. 

Kageyama looks up at him when Hinata doesn’t respond, the string wrapped around his head a low budget halo.

“You’re a setter,” Hinata says into the collar of his shirt, hiding his blush. “You don’t need to bench press anything.” 

“You know what position I play?” Kageyama’s expression changes, and suddenly he’s the shy nerd he should’ve been from the beginning. His eyes are a little wide, a bit round, his lips slightly parted. He reaches up and plays with the hair underneath the stem of his glasses, tucking it under then taking it back out. 

Hinata starts packing his bag, straining to hear the room around him over the sound of his thudding heart. “I’ve been to a lot of games,” he says quickly. “I used to play volleyball back in high school.” His chest puffs up a little with pride as he glances at Kageyama from the corner of his eye. “I was a middle blocker. I think my vertical jump was around 40 inches in my first year?” 

He looks over st Kageyama, who is bright red and working very hard not to look in his direction. The man was no doubt comparing his jump to his height, chasing the numbers around in his head like a dog chases its tail. Did Kageyama get off thinking about numbers? Was that even a thing, a math fetish? 

“I guess we can go,” Kageyama says as he gets to his feet. “I finished everything.” He nods down to their clipboard, still avoiding Hinata’s eyes. 

“Oh. Alright then.” Hinata deflates a little. Sometimes the two of them would linger, sharing short sentences but walking together until their paths split by the courtyard. “I’ll see ya Thursday.” 

He watches Kageyama take their paper up to the professor, then walk out of the room as fast as his legs can take him, which happens to be very faster. The back of his neck that isn’t covered by the collar of his shirt is really, really pink. Hinata hopes he isn’t sick. 

 

*~* 

 

Hinata rarely sees Kageyama outside of class. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because their schedules don’t line up. He knows the volleyball team practices every day, but aside from that and math class he has no idea what his table partner does outside of the hour and fifteen minutes they spend together on Tuesdays and Thursdays. 

So imagine his surprise when he sees this tall, looming figure dressed in a dark blue sweater vest, leaning against the doorway of the classroom opposite his own. 

“Kageyama?” 

The man looks up, his shoulders stiff. “Oh, hey.” He pushes off of the wall with his foot, then glances back to make sure it didn’t leave a mark. Hinata presses his lips together so he doesn’t laugh. 

“What are you doing here?” He hugs his textbook tighter to his chest, sidestepping the flood of students who pour out of the room after him. Kageyama moves with him, standing close and hunching over like an umbrella. His glasses slip down the bridge of nose, and Hinata is hit with an unobstructed view of his unfairly pretty eyes. 

“I could ask you the same thing.” Once the hall clears Kageyama straightens up. One hand is shoved deep into his pocket, the other twirls a pen between long, slim fingers. 

Hinata tries not to stare too long at any part of his body. Whoever said sweater vests weren’t attractive has never seen Kageyama Tobio’s broad chest fill out royal blue cotton. 

“I have class?” Hinata nods in the direction of his classroom as he takes a few steps down the hall. He has to stop himself from jumping and clicking his heels together when Kageyama follows. He wracks his brain for something clever to say to fill in the silence that follows. 

“Sooo what’s up?” Off to a great start. 

Kageyama adjusts his glasses once they reach the front doors of the arts building. “I was speaking with our professor yesterday about an extra credit assignment,” he politely ignores Hinata’s scoff, because the thought of Mr Top Marks needing extra credit is laughable. “And he let it slip that he’s giving a pop quiz on Thursday.” 

Hinata feels his happy bubble pop under the weight of those words. “ _Uggggggg!_ ” He glares up at the shining sun and the fluffy white clouds. Summer is peaking its head around the corner and he’s too ready to toss his books in his closet for six weeks. 

“I’m not prepared for that! I’m like, two chapters behind.” He casts dejected eyes up to Kageyama. He’s surprised to find he’s already being watched. “Why didn’t he tell us?” 

“I believe the goal of a pop quiz is to surprise.” Kageyama appears to be amused by his misery, the edges of his slightly chapped lips lifting at the corner. Hinata wants to buy him one of those flavored waters he’s seen his classmate drink during class, or buy him new, unscented chapstick. He licks his own lips in sympathy, and Kageyama quickly looks away. Oh god, had he been starting? He had a real probably keeping his eyes on the board during class. He couldn’t let that transfer into his everyday life or he’d start running into lampposts. 

“I’m doomed,” he moans, hugging his photography book tighter, until the hardcover edges press painfully into his chin. There’s no way he can catch up by Thursday, not when he’s already got two other assignments due. He desperately needs these extra points in math or he might end up repeating the class next semester!

Kageyama’s cool, calm voice cuts through his heated inner spiraling. “I can help you study.” He looks around and then ducks his head. “If you want my help, I mean.” 

“Really?!” The offer is a little unexpected. He and Kageyama got along well enough (ignoring that first week when they shouted themselves hoarse debating probability nonsense) and getting help from the smartest guy in class would guarantee him at least a seventy percent or higher on the quiz. But in all the movies he’s seen, the nerd usually wants something in return for helping the jock ace his exam. Not that this was an exam, and Kageyama was _kind of_ the jock between the two of them. 

“What’s the catch?” He hops forward a few steps and plants himself in Kageyama’s path. He squints, the sun reflecting off of his glasses. Hinata can’t really tell but he bets they’re the fancy kind that morph into sunglasses. 

“I don’t..” Kageyama hesitates, seemingly caught off guard. (Or he’s working that big brain of his double time to come up with a believable story). “There’s no catch.” He reaches up to his shoulder, searching the strap of his backpack. He often wore both straps because “The weight of my supplies are more evenly distributed that way”. He thought shoulder bags did more harm than good. 

“Are you free right now?” 

Hinata’s fest have instinctively taken him down the path towards his dorm, a walk he usually made alone after his photography class. From his ~~stalking~~ detailed research, he knew Kageyama lived closer to the gym on the other side of campus. 

“I can make time,” he shrugs. “I just need to drop off my stuff first.” And shower and comb his hair and find a smarter looking outfit. His ripped, paint splattered jeans and Kirby shirt were childish when compared to how put together Kageyama always looked. He didn’t want the other students to see them together and assume Kageyama was babysitting him. 

“Great!” Kageyama’s smile then is unguarded, slightly shaky but clearly loaded. “I’ll wait out here for you, then we can go to my dorm room.” 

Hinata tries extremely hard to stay calm and not giggle like s high school first year. He fails. “Wow, Kageyama-kun, so direct.” The confused pout on Kageyama’s face, coupled with the cute way he furrows his eyebrows in unhealthy for Hinata’s heart. “I mean, shouldn’t you at least buy me dinner first?” 

He thinks the joke might be lost on him, because Kageyama has never seemed like the type to make dumb jokes and innuendos. Hinata isn’t the type either, not unless he’s tipsy and with the right company. Or apparently when he’s nervous about being alone with the guy he’s been crushing on since day one. He almost hopes he doesn’t understand, because what if he thinks Hinata is coming on to him and he freaks out? But when Hinata looks up, Kageyama’s entire face is as a pink as the inside of a strawberry. 

“A-Alright,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We can go to the dining hall first.” Kageyama won’t look directly at him, but his eyes flicker over his body every other second. Hinata resists the urge to cover himself. 

“Why there?” Kageyama huffs, waving his hand in a dismissive manner, like Hinata is being dense on purpose. 

“So I can buy you lunch.” 

A sound like a dog’s squeaky toy emits from Hinata’s mouth. Kageyama’s eyes widen comically, and Hinata just shoots him a thumbs up before flat out sprinting to his building. 

To his surprise Kageyama is still there twenty minutes later. He doesn’t comment on Hinata’s new outfit or wet hair. He doesn’t look ashamed to be seen with him, and he doesn’t mind that Hinata fills the quiet with nervous rambling. He doesn’t scold him for taking a long time deciding what he wants, nor does he yell at him when Hinata spills milk all over his fancy suit pants. 

Hinata thinks he’s in love. 

 

*~*

 

It happens, somehow, when Hinata isn’t looking, when he’s got his back turned or his eyes closed. He no longer waits until the last minute to study or do his homework, because he does it with Kageyama. Sometimes they go to the library, or they sit outside when Hinata feels exceptionally restless. But most often they hide out in Kageyama’s tiny, single dorm, studying and talking, and then talking more and studying less, until they’re spending full weekends together with no math involved whatsoever. 

Today is one of those days. 

“You know what’s _bullshit_?” Hinata asks from his position on Kageyama’s bed. His textbook lay abandoned beside him as he lies upside down, his forehead and cheeks slowly turning pink. 

He likes Kageyama’s room. His bed is off to the side and his sheets are dark blue and black. His closet is organized and he stacks his books by height. Hinata was starting to think that he was hanging out with an incredibly hot robot, until he noticed the pile of trash slowly growing in the corner by Kageyama’s desk, and the mess of clothes hidden under his bed. Not to mention how cluttered his computer folders were. It was humbling in a way, watching his crisp outer layer give way to someone warm and a little clueless. It felt like they were on more equal footing now. 

“What’s bullshit?” Kageyama asks with no real interest. He’s sitting at his desk, typing up an essay for his history class. It needs to be five pages, and he’s struggling to get past the first. 

“Red velvet.”

“Red velvet what?” 

Hinata blows out a breath. “Just like, the entire concept of it.” He stretches out his arms and plants his hands on the floor so he doesn’t slip off the bed. “I was looking up recipes online cause my sister wants a red velvet cake for her birthday? And there’s so many conflicting ideas on what red velvet actually is! One article said it ‘wasn’t quite chocolate and it’s not quite vanilla’. What does that even mean?!” 

Hinata casts his eyes up to gauge his reaction, but Kageyama doesn’t appear to have heard a single word. His chin sits on his clasped hands, and his eyes glare unseeingly at his computer. Hinata sits up, swaying on the bed as the blood in his face travels back down to the rest of his body. He’s used to Kageyama getting lost in his work, going into a trance once he enters The Nerd Zone. But something is..wrong. His back is tense, the muscles under his white t-shirt taut and rigid. His shoulders are up high by his ears, and—Hinata moves to stand close and sees how empty his eyes are. 

“Kageyama?” Hinata gently places his hand on Kageyama’s shoulder, his heart beating uncomfortably. They didn’t touch each other often, but right now Hinata’s pathetic crush was the last thing on his mind. “Are you okay?” 

Kageyama takes a deep, shuddering breath, then shakes his head. His eyes are on the blinking cursor on the mostly empty white page of his essay, and his shoulders tense up even more under Hinata’s hand. 

“Have you ever tried to do something, and no matter how hard you worked, or how long you practiced, you could never get any better?” 

Kageyama sounds tired, like he’s played this song before on repeat until the record cracked. Hinata has never heard him talk about a problem he couldn’t solve before, not even the Impossible Equation Challenge their professor told them about on the first day of class. Kageyama has yet to crack it, but he still hasn’t given up. 

“C’mon,” Hinata tugs on his arm to get him to stand. “Let’s switch places.” He gets Kageyama on his feet and pushes him towards his bed, then takes a seat at his desk. He saves the essay, twice, then shuts the laptop. He turns around in the chair so he can rest his arms along the back and studies his table partner. Kageyama doesn’t look any more relaxed in bed. He’s got his arms behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankles. Hinata thinks he’s holding his breath. 

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, unsure of what to do or how to help. He’s used to filling the silence with wherever comes to mind, but his friendship with Kageyama is still so new. If his method of ‘talk until your thoughts find something else to obsesses about’ doesn’t work he’ll be out of ideas. 

“Sure.” The word rides on a big and heavy sigh. Hinata almost doesn’t want to ask, but he does anyway. 

“Why do you like math so much?” 

Kageyama doesn’t answer right away, and for the first time Hinata worries he might have crossed a line. The past month has felt like an extended daydream, because no matter how loud or pushy or whiny Hinata has been, Kageyama never seemed annoyed or upset. At least not in a way that felt like he wanted to beat him over the head with a volleyball. 

“I didn’t like it at first,” Kageyama says softly to the ceiling. “I didn’t like anything about school until I was fifteen and started learning geometry.”

Hinata has a hard time believing that, but he holds back on his personal opinions for once. “Really? But you’re the smartest person I know!” He pauses, then corrects himself. “Well, maybe the second smartest cause Kuroo is like, a mad chemist. But you’re _definitely_ in the top five!” 

A breathy little laugh shakes Kageyama’s shoulders. “Thanks.” He sighs soon after though, and starts pulling on a loose thread at the hem of his shirt. He’s quiet for another long stretch of time. Hinata waits patiently, just like Kageyama waits for him to work out a homework problem before offering to help. 

“I..” Kageyama plays with his fingers, curling them together, pulling on them. Hinata wants to cover them with his own and hold them until the tension in his strong arms evaporates. 

“I have dyslexia. And I didn’t know until I was thirteen.” The words come slow, like tar, his jaw working hard to form each word. “Both of my parents are very successful, and even though they didn’t push me to excel, it was expected that I would do well academically.” 

“It probably doesn’t make much sense,” Kageyama goes on, sounding almost apologetic. “and trust me, it still doesn’t make sense to me. But once something _finally_ clicked, once the pieces fell into place, I latched onto it. I put all my focus into math, and didn’t pay much attention to anything else.” 

“Is that why you’re having trouble with your essay?” Hinata says quietly, curling into the back of the chair. “Because of..” He doesn’t know how to finish without sounding rude or pitying. He doesn’t want to see Kageyama close himself off, not when he’s trusting him like this. 

“Writing has always been the hardest thing for me,” Kageyama says, letting Hinata trail off. “It depends on my mood more than anything. If I force myself to concentrate it isn’t too bad.” He scowls at Hinata, and his heart lurches uncomfortably. Was he the cause of Kageyama’s frustrations? Was he too distracting? Too loud and annoying? 

“I’ve been fighting to get this paper done all week, and I’ve gotten nowhere.” He groans in frustration, and only then does Hinata realize he was scowling at the laptop on the desk behind him. “It’s so frustrating I could seriously throw it into the fountain. But I think once I clean up a bit I’ll be able to think more clearly.” 

The melancholy, night in the rain background music comes to a screeching halt in Hinata’s mind. He thinks about his own messy room, his pile of small assignments that he knows without a doubt will remain unfinished until the last possible second. He thinks about how pained Kageyama looked just now, and how he opened up to him anyway. 

“Wow,” Hinata breathes, gazing at Kageyama with something akin to awe. “You’re even cooler than I first thought.”

“What?!” Kageyama bolts up in bed, his eyes comically wide. “How does that even mean? I mean, what does that even work?” _I mean_ —“

“Cause I always give up on stuff when it’s too hard,” Hinata cuts him off before he can work himself into an admittedly cute fluster. “It’s why I suck at art so much. But things are actually _hard_ for you but you power through them even when you don’t want to.” 

He push-waddles the chair over to the bed, getting caught on a stray sock and almost falling over before he’s close enough to reach out and shake Kageyama’s shoulder. “That’s awesome! You’re _awesome_ , Kageyama!” 

Hinata watches as a fierce blush overtakes Kageyama, starting at his neck and moving all the way to the tips of his ears. A tiny smile lifts his lips, turning a little wobbly at the corner, like he wants to smile even more but is holding himself back. 

“T-thanks.” Underneath Hinata’s hand his body relaxes, the tension traveling from his shoulders to Hinata’s own. Math nerds weren’t supposed to be hot, but he had underestimated just how cute they could be, too. From this close he can see Kageyama dimples, and the way his long eyelashes nearly touch the tops of his cheeks. His lips look soft, the bottom one full and incredibly enticing, like it’s just asking for Hinata to bite it. 

Not wanting to be caught staring, Hinata pushes himself back to the desk, grasping at the cotton candy in his brain for something to lighten the mood. 

“Did you know that if your hand covers your face it means you’re gay?” He blurts out, the words tumbling out of his mouth like pebbles. The back of his neck grows uncomfortably warm when Kageyama narrows his eyes. 

“I don’t need my hand to tell me what I already know,” he says after a beat. 

Hinata all but falls out of the chair. 

“You’re gay?!” He shouts, in a way someone would ask “You have an alligator in your bathtub?!” His initial shock and disbelief does an excellent job of masking his hopefulness, because Kageyama’s face cycles through a wheel of emotions Hinata has yet to see. 

There’s hurt, which makes his insides twist and shrivel up. Then there’s anger, a quick spark of something hot that churns the guilt in Hinata’s stomach. And finally, there’s the realization that, should he ever want to, Kageyama was strong enough to effortlessly pick him up and powerbomb him through his desk. 

“Yes,” he says at last, holding Hinata’s eyes. “Is that a problem?” 

“NO!” This time Hinata _does_ fall out of the chair, crashing forward into a pile of dirty gym clothes. Kageyama half rises in alarm. “No no no it’s not a problem at all, it’s like the _inverse_ of a problem!” 

Holy shit holy shit holyshit no way! It was one thing to hope and assume and jump hurdles to connect behaviors with stereotypes but this was total and complete confirmation! Hinata covers his face with his hand, feeling the warmth radiating into his sweaty palm. Kageyama looks at him from over his glasses, concerned and confused. 

“I uhh..m-me too. I am gay. Also.” He kicks his leg out from where it’s straddling the chair and crawls to a clear spot on the floor. When he looks back, Kageyama is pink in the face yet again. 

“Makes sense,” he murmurs quietly, almost like he doesn’t mean to. He breaks out a bashful smile when Hinata sputters in response. 

“According to popular statistics, one in every ten people are gay, and there are thirty people in our class.” He shrugs, glancing away before looking back at him out of the corner of his eye. “And those who are alike tend to find each other, don’t they? Birds of a feather and all that.” 

Which was just his fancy way of saying the gays had this magnetic attraction to one another, even if they weren’t seeking out a relationship. On the contrary, Hinata had more trouble getting a date _now_ than he did before he came out. Not for lack of trying, of course. 

“Soooooo,” Hinata fishes, gazing up at Kageyama as he rests his chin on his folded arms, leaning against his bed. “Who’s the third in our equation, if I’m understanding the statistic correctly.”

“Our professor.” 

“Takeda-sensei!?” 

“He’s dating the volleyball coach.” 

_“Ukai-san?!”_

Kageyama nods gravely, no doubt recalling some images that he’d rather forget about. Hinata tries his hardest not to throw his head back and let it fall from his shoulders due to the weight of information he now has cemented to his brain. His table mate, the incredibly hard working, nerdy yet athletic Kageyama Tobio, was gay. 

And now he knows that Hinata is gay. 

If he was expecting bells and whistles to go off he was mistaken, but this was just as nice. A quiet realization between trusted friends, which was more than Hinata had hoped for when he walked into class that first day and was almost crushed under the weight of his..well _crush_. 

This—sharing the same space without turning three shades of red and fumbling with a borrowed eraser—was the kind of character development he’s only read about. And, if he was being honest, he quite likes not being so _gwaaah_ around Kageyama anymore. 

“Kageyama?”

“Yeah?”

Hinata bites the inside of his cheek before blowing out a big sigh. “Do you want any help cleaning up?” 

Kageyama raises a dubious eyebrow. “ _You_ want to help me _clean_?” He reaches out and touches Hinata’s forehead, his hand large enough to cover almost half of his face. “That’s very off script of you.”

Okay, maybe he’s still a little _gwaaah_ about him. 

 

*~*

 

Hinata clutches the little oval shaped piece of paper in his hands and tries not to rip it in half. He holds it close to his chest and closes his eyes, hoping to absorb its cute and carefree energy. He feels a bit ridiculous sitting in the shadows of the gymnasium bleachers, wearing his lucky pencil necklace—a stubby little thing that helped him ace all of his psychology tests first year—and trying not to attract any attention to himself. He wasn’t _scared_ or anything, no way! He just didn’t want to disrupt practice. 

He and Kageyama have been hanging out for practically three months now, and Hinata was almost certain they had reached a comfortable level of friendship. They studied together, they ate lunch together, they procrastinated on hated assignments together. Just a few days ago Kageyama showed up to his room with a bag of popcorn and his laptop, breathless and flushed, because he wanted to show Hinata a relaxing paint mixing compilation. He could have just as easily sent Hinata the link to the video, but instead he wanted to watch it with him. Surely that meant they were close enough for Hinata to...

The whistle blows shrilly, yanking Hinata from his thoughts. He looks up just in time to see Kageyama get pulled into a side hug by one of his teammates. His hair is plastered to his forehead in sweaty patches, his neck and biceps covered in a layer of sweat worked up by a heavy practice. Hinata bets his skin is warm, his pulse still adrenaline charged. He wants to feel the way his muscles move under his skin, to have those strong arms wrap around his waist. 

He wants to take off Kageyama’s sports glasses and have him squint cutely at him like he did yesterday afternoon when he was helping Hinata pack for vacation. 

His vacant, daydream stare gives way to a fond smile the same second Kageyama looks up into the stands and notices him. Surprise colors his features, stopping him in his tracks towards the locker room. But then he grins, waving up to him with an enthusiasm he usually saved for games. One of his teammates nudges him with their shoulder and says something that sends pink to his cheeks. Hinata giggles, covering his mouth when Kageyama looks back at him as if he heard him. 

Hinata waits for him outside of the gym, trying to smooth out the wrinkles on the paper made by his sweaty hands. He stuffs it in his pocket though when he hears Kageyama approaching, waving goodbye to a few teammates heading in the opposite direction. He’s wearing a white t-shirt instead of his practice jersey, but otherwise he hadn’t changed, right down to the sports glasses. He looks like a casual athlete now, and the implication that he forwent showering to meet up with him should not send Hinata’s heart racing. 

“H-hey!” He waves as Kageyama makes his way over. “Great practice out there. Your jump serve was incredible!”

A smile breaks out over Kageyama’s face, one that shows off his pretty, straight white teeth. He’s been handing out more of those smiles lately. 

“Thank you. The team has been working very hard lately, since most of us are going to be gone for the summer.” 

They fall into steps with one another, Kageyama’s long legs slowing their gate so Hinata doesn’t get left behind. That’s another thing he likes about Kageyama: his subtlety. All of his other tall friends always made a point of slowing down after jogging ahead of him. Kageyama seemed perfectly happy going at Hinata’s pace without making a big deal out of it. 

“Ya know,” Hinata says, totally not stalling in his mission. “We actually live pretty close to each other back home, don’t we? Give or take a mountain path.” 

After finding out that Kageyama lived closer to his old high school than he did, Hinata spent two full days in a deep daydream, mapping out their entire relationship had they both gone to the same place. They wouldn’t hit it off right away, not with Kageyama’s academic anxieties and Hinata’s often times intrusive enthusiasm. In one fantasy, Kageyama joins the art club, where they would land themselves in detention for paint fights. But as time went on they grew closer, and by the time third year rolled around they were both mushy and sappy and couldn’t stand being apart. 

In the other, Hinata joins the volleyball team. They argue _a lot_ , a counterbalance to their current relationship, and Kageyama is this setting prodigy. But even with his grumpy face and social lacking, something about him draws Hinata close. Hinata always gets caught up somewhere around second year, torn between drawing out their romance with painful misunderstandings, and claiming Kageyama’s lips in a searing kiss after they win Nationals. He’s still working on that one. 

“Mhm,” Kageyama nods. “We’ve probably run into each other in the past. Although,” he looks down at Hinata with an expression Hinata has yet to put a name to, but one that’s been cropping up almost as often as his toothy smiles. “I think I’d remember seeing someone like you.” 

Hinata snorts, even as his face warms up. A giant like Kageyama wouldn’t notice him in a crowd unless he accidentally stepped on him. “Yeah, maybe,” he says unconvinced. Then he shakes his head, drawing all of courage and impulsiveness. He hesitates a few times, like when he can feel the static from the blanket in the dryer but he can’t touch it directly, afraid of getting shocked. 

“Here!” He shoves the paper oval into Kageyama’s talking hands, cutting off his description of his old school, A-boba tea or something. He stares dutifully at their feet, hunching his shoulders in as the silence settles around them. 

“It’s...a donut?” 

Kageyama turns the paper around in his hands, squinting at the fancy, printed writing across the bare section of the donut. And it was absolutely a donut, right down to the cartoonish, bright pink frosting and thick sprinkles. Hinata rubs at his blushing cheeks, wondering if he would ever be able to hold a conversation with this guy without turning colors. 

“It.. it’s supposed to be an inflatable tube that _looks_ like a donut, but I guess that’s hard to translate on paper. I offered to photoshop in like, a stick person or something but they were already printed out...” Hinata trails off, watching Kageyama’s adorably confused expression soften into understanding the longer he looks at the invitation. 

“A group of my ‘friends’,” he brings his index and middle finger of both hands up and crooks them just so, “are getting together for a pool party the first week of vacation. I asked if I could invite someone and they said yeah so..” He tilts his head up with a shy grin. “Consider yourself invited.” 

The confusion melts away into an answering smile. Hinata wonders, and then decides he doesn’t have to. He waits a moment, then smiles a little more, still shy but less fearful of Kageyama’s reaction. 

“Why did you put air quotes around ‘friends’?” Kageyama snorts down at the not-a-donut again before catching Hinata’s gaze and smiling wider than before. Hinata feels like he could take off into space at any second, that’s how high up in the clouds he is. 

He isn't too far gone to realize how...difficult his question was, though. In the time it would take to explain the details of how he knew Kenma from high school, who was best friends with Kuroo, who used to date Bokuto who was now engaged to Akaashi who knows Oikawa who's uncle works at the club where the party was going to be at, summer would over already. 

“It’s complicated.” 

Kageyama mulls that over, opening the dining hall door for for Hinata, who books it to the cooler filled with energy drinks and soda and juice. He grabs a bottle of milk, the glass cool under his warm fingers. Kageyama presses up behind him and reaches up for a bottle of apple juice, tapping it softly against the top of Hinata’s head as they inch their way behind the line of other students buying snacks. 

“ _Anyway_ ,” Hinata draws the word out. “The friend has an uncle who works at the country club and managed to get it for an afternoon. There’s like this cave, waterfall thing and..” He tips his head back, looking at Kageyama upside down. “Have you seen High School Musical 2?” 

“Of course.”

“It’s like that place.” 

Kageyama reaches past his shoulder to grab a big, chocolate chip muffin, and Hinata stretches up on his toes to grab the last peanut butter and strawberry granola bar. They bump arms, which turns into light shoving, which turns into a slap fight until they notice it’s their turn to pay. 

They trade drinks, Hinata shoving his apple juice into the broken water bottle holder pouch on the side of his bag. He stuffs the granola bar into Kageyama’s gym shorts pocket, trying to act super casual, as if he got close to his thighs every other day. Like _Oh is your junk somewhere near this pocket? I didn’t even notice!_

Hinata squeaks when Kageyama drops the (thankfully wrapped) muffin down the front of his shirt. 

“Jerky-yama.”

“Handsy-nata.”

Hinata’s smile is cheek-achingly wide, but he doesn’t try to hide it now. Three months ago he could barely look Kageyama in the face without making a fool of himself, and now they’re teasing each other like old friends. He feels less awkward when their arms brush against each other on the walk to his dorm. Though he still gets goosebumps and little bolts of happy lightening spark in his chest like dryer static. They set out on the familiar path to Hinata’s dorm, walking close despite the lack of people to move aside for. 

“I know you’ll probably be busy with summer extra credit projects or impromptu practice,” he says around his mouthful of muffin, “but it’s only one Saturday and you don’t have to stay long if—“

“Do you want me to come?” 

Hinata looks up, half of the muffin stuffed in his cheeks. “W-we’ll yeah?” He swallows hard, coughing a bit. “There’s gonna be swimming and free food and music. And you’ve been working super duper hard lately and deserve a break!” 

He polishes off the crumbly chocolate treat and gulps down half of his juice. He licks his lips, smiling brightly. “Plus, I wanna hang out with you!” 

In all of their time spent together, Hinata has never been anything but honest. He was a little embarrassed at how eager he seemed, but it was the truth. Kageyama deserves to know how much Hinata likes spending time with him, and not just when homework was involved. 

Kageyama looks caught off guard. Hinata may have been honest in the past, but he had also been subtle. He wasn’t hiding behind coincidences or convenient study plans. He’s laid all his cards on the table, and now the ball is on Kageyama’s side of the court. 

He tries not to let the quiet overwhelm him. It was hardly a secret that Kageyama wasn’t a social butterfly. Hinata has gotten used to carrying on most of the conversation, and has taken the time to learn Kageyama’s nonverbal communication. When he’s angry he scowls, but when he’s sad or confused or scared he frowns, the position of his eyebrows usually helping identify what his mouth can’t. When he thinks something is funny he presses his lips together hard, and when _Hinata_ does something funny, he smiles really fast and _then_ frowns, not wanting to encourage Hinata’s bad jokes. 

(Hinata knows he really likes them, though) 

They’ve reached the drop off point, and Hinata slows to a stop, a lingering smile on his lips that he doesn’t notice until it’s gone. He watches from somewhere outside of his body as Kageyama’s hands come up and cup his face. His cool breath wafts over Hinata’s face, smelling of sweet milk and a bit of chocolate. He inhales sharply through his nose when warm thumbs rub against the corners of his mouth. 

“Crumbs,” Kageyama murmurs, his voice a low, soft tone. Hinata nods dumbly, and is still dizzy even after Kageyama pulls back. The expression Kageyama wears now is new: his eyes are soft around the edges but warm in the center, and his lips are slightly pursed, inviting and tempting and dangerous. 

“If you’re certain you want me to come..” Hinata nods eagerly, and Kageyama smiles. No, he _grins_ , something sharp that sends heat all along Hinata’s nerves. 

“Then I’ll be there.” 

 

*~*

 

The last time Hinata had set foot on country club grounds he’d been seventeen and in need of a job. That summer had been one of great discovery, and it feels like meeting an old as he passes through the front entrance and into the cool lobby, free from the summer heat if only for a moment. 

From the lobby it’s a straight shot through the dining hall and out the back patio doors to the pool. A wall of noise washes over him the moment he slides them open, and a large, infectious smile takes over most of his face as he steps back out into the warm sunlight. The space is packed with bodies and familiar faces and unrecognized voices: friends and friends of friends and new people who would become bonded for one afternoon. 

He spots Kenma in a chair under an umbrella and waves, getting a lazy one back. Bokuto runs past him and cannonballs into the pool, the ripples causing Akaashi and his floating lounge to drift. The excitable man resurfaces, looking to his fiancé. Akaashi holds up seven fingers, making Hinata laugh as Bokuto whines and dives under the water, swimming over to his partner like a shark about to attack. 

Hinata uses his arm as a visor as he scans the area, searching for the man of the hour. Oikawa was never too hard to spot in a crowd, since he usually put himself smack dab in the center. He wants to wish him a happy birthday and see how many ice pops he can eat before getting a massive brain freeze.

It only seems fitting that, as he thinks this, his brain really does freeze. 

Math nerds weren’t supposed to be hot. 

They weren’t supposed to be _sexy_ either. 

But no one decided to pass that message along to Kageyama.

Hinata turns to head back inside just as Oikawa, lounging in the hot tub the corner, waves to him, the same moment Kageyama notices Oikawa noticing him. Even from far away, Hinata can just feel how different he is, more relaxed and laid back and comfortable than he’s ever been on campus. The thought was almost enough to make him smile, but he was afraid that if he moved his mouth at all a puddle of drool would pool at his feet. 

The sun is high in the sky, illuminating the water that slides down his broad shoulders and collects in his collarbone as Kageyama rises from the hot tub. The eager, greedy droplets travel down his torso, playing with surface tension until they pop and race all the way to his swim trunks. His white swim trunks that show off how incredibly tanned Kageyama is, even his (strong, beautifully sculpted) legs. Has he always been this tan?! It was hard to tell during the colder months and under the lights of the gym. In fact, outside of volleyball, Hinata hasn’t seen Kageyama in less than five pieces of clothing at all times. 

But now he’s only wearing _one_ piece of clothing. And they’re wet and heavy, hanging low on his hips. Hinata suspects that it wouldn’t take any effort at all to dip his thumbs underneath the waistband and tug them to his feet. 

“Chibi-chan!” Oikawa greets him once he’s within range, wrapping him up in a tight hug and grinning from ear to ear. He’s warm and smells like chlorine and suntan lotion. “I _loved_ the gift you sent me. Very cute.” 

Hinata had sent him a phone case that looked like a waffle, along with a few shower gels because Oikawa was into that kind of stuff. He always smelled vaguely sweet, like flowers or candy. Not like Kageyama, who smelled like crisp soap and pen ink. 

“I was just reassuring Tobio-chan here that you were just being fashionably late as usual.” 

Hinata huffs, finally finding his voice. “I had to wash the dishes before I could.. wait a minute.” He turns his incredulous gaze to Kageyama. “You know Oikawa?” 

“Of course.” Kageyama’s brow furrows in that insanely cute way that it does, and it’s only now that Hinata realizes he’s not wearing his glasses. His deep blues are unfiltered and absorb the sunlight, shooting it back at him. “We went to the same high school. Aobajōsai remember?”

Oh. OH!

He hadn’t been talking about bobs tea at all! Hinata was just too caught up in daydreams to hear him properly. A nervous chuckle bubbles up from his chest. “R-right! Sorry I uh, I forgot. That’s cool! That you know each other, I mean.” What else didn’t he know that Kageyama no doubt explained three times before? 

“Well it's a good thing you forgot.” Oikawa slings an arm around Kageyama’s shoulders and squeezes him close, much to the other man’s displeasure. “I invited Tobio to come out here in _April_ and he kept dodging my texts.” He winks exaggeratedly. “Looks like I’ve found his weakness.”

It feels like he’s on the surface of the sun without a space suit his face is so fucking hot. Oikawa was always teasing him, and any other time he could’ve given just as good as he got. But Kageyama is blushing too as he disentangles himself from the older man’s hold. 

Oikawa giggles, fully aware of the situation he just put them in. “You two have fun, okay? I’ve got to check on the food.” He winks again before heading back inside, leaving behind two lobsters. 

They stand there in this air of awkwardness, neither willing to address the implications of Oikawa’s words, but also not wanting to walk away. Hinata tries to pull himself together; he had invited Kageyama because he wanted to see him, regardless of his silly little crush. So what if Kageyama looks like he belongs on the cover of those swimsuit magazines that everyone _knew_ were basically porn but didn’t want to admit to thinking of them that way? 

The sound of Kageyama chuckling rouses Hinata from his less than innocent thoughts. “Nice shorts.” 

Hinata looks down so fast his neck cramps in protest. For a burning second he’s mortified, fearful that his daydreams have made themselves obvious. But all his sees are his—thankfully flat—swim trunks: pizza slices printed on light blue material (though one slice in particular is positioned in a very suggestive spot). 

“Haha! Yeah I,” he coughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought they were funny.” 

“I like them.” Kageyama’s hand twitches at his side, sending dizzy heat up Hinata’s chest. He looked like..like he wanted to touch him. “Teal looks good on you.” 

_You’d look good on me, too,_ Hinata thinks, a thousand compliments fighting to escape, and only half of them are innocent. Maybe one-third. 

“Sooooo,” he rocks back on his heels, casting a glance at the party going on around them. “Do you know anyone else here besides Oikawa?” He starts walking away from the pool and towards a less cluttered section of the area, closer to the lounge chairs with the giant umbrellas. Kageyama easily keeps pace, but he doesn’t move ahead of him, staying at his side like he has since they first started getting to know each other. 

“I went to school with Oikawa-san, who had a _thing_ with Akaashi-san way back. He met Bokuto at one of my last high school games, and he fought Kuroo after he cut me off when Bokuto was teaching me how to drive. And I’m pretty sure he’s dating Kenma, but everyone pretends not to notice.” 

“...wow.” Whoever told him about that whole three degrees of separation thing never bothered to mention how different the connections could be. Still, knowing that Kageyama wasn’t as isolated and alone as he originally thought gave him warm, fluttering feelings in his stomach. 

“Have you tried the ice pops yet?” Kageyama asks. When Hinata shakes his head, Kageyama grabs his wrist and pulls him to a large cooler on the opposite side of the pool from the dining hall. He bends at the waist and digs through ice—the fancy, little tater tot shaped ice—and pulls out two ice pops. He holds out a lime flavored pop to Hinata, having secured a cherry one for himself. 

“You remembered,” Hinata said softly, a little surprised. He’s answered so many of Kageyama’s mundane questions, he didn’t think he actually kept track of anything specific, let alone his favorite flavor. 

They sit at the shallow end of the large pool, feet hanging in the water as they devour their rapidly melting treats. By the end the middle of Hinata’s tongue is bright green and Kageyama’s lips are a very kissable red. He wants to know if lime and cherry mixed together tastes as good as he thinks they would. Kageyama would help him, surely, in the name of science, his second best subject. Of course, they couldn’t stop at just one test. No, they’d need a comprehensive list, with different brands of ice pops. It could take weeks or even months to get a decent amount of data, but Hinata was nothing if not dedicated. 

A loud cry from the deeper end of the pool has them both looking over, curious and a bit startled. A crowd has gathered around the edges of the pool, cheering on a group of four in the pool’s centre. Hinata cackles when he realizes what’s going on, just as someone yells: 

_“CHICKEN FIGHT!”_

Hinata watches from his safe spot away from the chaos, laughing at Oikawa’s friends and classmates as they sit on each other’s shoulders and try to take each other down. He hasn’t seen a quality chicken fight since he was sixteen, and that had been during art camp. The ground was a lot less forgiving than the water. 

“We should play!” Kageyama says in a rush. He looks almost as surprised as Hinata does. 

“What?!” Hinata shakes his head and tugs on his ear, wondering if he’s gotten water up there without even stepping waist deep into the pool. “Are you cr—are you sure?” 

No no no absolutely not this could not and will not happen it cannot nope! 

“Yes,” And Kageyama sounds determined now. “Unless you can’t swim. I won’t endanger you for a game.” 

Hinata bites the inside of his cheek and swallows back the loud noise his body wants to make. “A-ah no, I can swim just fine.” He watches Kageyama stand, a son of Apollo with the way the sun seems to be following him. He holds out his hand, looking down at him expectantly. 

There is absolutely no way in hell Hinata is going through with this. 

He lets Kageyama pull him to his feet because it’s impolite to refuse that kind of help. He follows him inside where everyone’s bags had been put and giggles when he puts on prescription swimming goggles, because of course he has those. He even stands in line with him with the others who want to enter this impromptu tournament. But he isn’t going to do it. 

“This should be fun,” says a tired voice on his left. Hinata turns and finds Kenma, who looks as enthused as Hinata feels. Which is to say not much. 

“Kuroo?”

“Yep.” 

That made sense. For as long as he’s known them, Kuroo has been able to wrangle Kenma into all kinds of unlikely scenarios. He thought it was cute. But that didn’t mean he was going through with this fight. Because he wasn’t. 

“Guess this means we’re gonna be enemies,” Hinata says brightly, his tone not matching his words. “Friends turned rivals in a battle to the death. Four go in, two come out. Only one team can be victorious.” He giggles at his own silliness, about to calmly explain to Kageyama that he just didn’t want to play—he does, he’s itching to take some people down, but he _can’t_ —when Kenma smirks. 

“Just like the art camp relay.”

A hand appears on Kenma’s shoulder, followed by Kuroo's own Cheshire grin. “You ready, shorty?” The last two teams exit the pool just as Kageyama returns to his side. He looks at Hinata from behind his goggles, hesitant if only for Hinata’s sake. 

“Let’s do this.” 

 

*~*

 

Twenty minutes and seven matches later, Hinata and Kageyama emerge from the pool, soaking wet but victorious. Hinata leaves him with double high fives and excuses himself to the bathroom just as Oikawa’s announces that lunch is ready. 

The lobby bathroom is the farthest from the dining hall, which means it’s mercifully empty and quiet. Still, Hinata locks himself in a stall and sits down hard, holding his burning face in his hands. He sighs, an annoyed sound that seems to echo around him as he tries to flush out (ha!) his wayward thoughts. 

Kageyama’s hands...

The whole reason he had fought against playing until his competitive side took over. His need to win had overshadowed his desires, right up until their epic win. Kageyama had beamed up at him from between his legs and gave his thighs a squeeze. Hard. Not enough to be malicious but enough for him to _feel it_.

As badly as he wanted it to be true, his friendship with Kageyama wasn’t as innocent on his end, and many nights back on campus had been spent fantasizing about those hands. How warm they were and how they’re look taking off his shirt. What it would feel like to cross his ankles behind his hips and grip his shoulders until he lost his voice and Kageyama’s fingers left bruises on his thighs. 

“C’mon Brain not now,” Hinata pleads, pressing his thighs together. He conjures up the worst imagines that he can—dead puppies, moldy bread, _eating_ moldy bread—until he feels safe walking out of the bathroom. He splashes cold water on his face for good measure. 

When Hinata returns outside everyone is dancing. 

The music is a loud, pulsing beat, rhythmic in its hard beat changes and dubstep undertones. Leave it to Oikawa to pick club music. Fortunately for him, no one seemed to have a problem with it. Hinata grabs two sliders as he passed by the food table and eats them in big bites as he weaves through the clusters of dancers. 

He finds Kenma and Akaashi acting as wallflower near the ice pop cooler, watching their partners across the way with mock exasperation. Bokuto and Kuroo twist and roll their bodies around each other, not so subtly trying to back one another towards the pool. Hinata would put money on both of them falling in, but Bokuto was sneaky in ways Kuroo had always underestimated. Still it was funny to watch, as well as everyone else. Oikawa has his oldest friend—Iwaizumi he thinks is his name—by the hands, fingers laced together as they step back and pull close. The shorter man is trying in vain not to smile, his eyes soft and gentle as Oikawa beams at him, unbridled. 

Hinata searches for Kageyama amongst those just swaying to the music, sweeping past two, three, _four_ times before he sees him. And oh man does he wish he hadn’t. 

“Oh my god,” he whispers, voiced laced with horror and humor in equal measures. 

Kageyama was, to put it simply, a _terrible_ dancer. It was like watching a newborn faun on ice skates, or a baby giraffe trying to tapdance. A sentient mound of spaghetti had more grace and finesse, but that didn’t stop Kageyama and his long limbs from having the time of his life, bobbing his head out of tune and laughing with two of Oikawa’s friends who didn’t seem to care at all that they had to duck a sharp elbow every now and again. 

Hinata could’ve watched him all day, but Kageyama chooses that moment to find his eyes in the crowd. His long legs carry him around the pool in no time, and then his wobbly, uncertain smile is shining down at Hinata.

“Come dance with me?”

“But you’re so bad!” Hinata shouts in disbelief. He immediately covers his mouth with both hands, staring up with a look of _true_ horror on his face. This was it, the last straw, the final shreds of Kageyama’s tolerance. Sure they poked fun at each other all the time but never about anything personal, never about things that they enjoyed. 

But Kageyama doesn’t punch him in the face, though the heat behind his eyes speaks of something he hasn’t before associated with Kageyama. 

“And you’re mean,” he says with a shrug, grabbing Hinata’s wrist once again. “Now you _owe_ me a dance.” 

Kageyama leads him away from his hiding spot and almost takes his head off as he does a spin move with his arms out. Hinata _knows_ he did so on purpose because Kageyama was always careful with him. Gentle and kind and considerate. He’s not as jerky and wild in his movements now, even if it’s still uncoordinated. 

Hinata takes a page from Oikawa’s book and laces his fingers through Kageyama’s, keeping his arms down and leading their twisting and bouncing dance. Kageyama catches on quickly enough, stepping in time with the beat and only shaking his hips when Hinata does. At one point Kageyama tries to dip him, while Hinata shrieks and clings to his shoulders, breathless with laughter as Kageyama gets his revenge by dangling him over the pool. 

They dance through three more songs before the music is turned down and Oikawa calls for everyone to come inside for cake. It’s Hinata’s turn to pull Kageyama behind him, and then he just kind of forgets to let go of his hand once they’re all inside and crowded together, singing loudly and off key. They only separate when it’s time to claim a slice. 

Oikawa, teal frosting hearts on his cheeks, passes a plate to Kageyama. “Here, Tobio-chan, I know you love the end cuts.” The cake, before they descended upon it like wolves, was clean and pretty, white frosting and teal roses on each corner. 

Hinata looks down at his own piece, pouting and trying not to look like a brat. Cake was cake after all, and while the campus dining hall had its selection of plastic wrapped sugary treats it was nothing compared to a _real_ chocolate cake. That doesn’t mean he can’t still lament over his sad little middle piece. 

“Here,” Kageyama says without prompt, holding out his plate with one hand and reaching for Hinata’s with the other. “Let’s trade.” 

Hinata blinks several times, his head slightly turning to the side due to the sheer amount of disbelief. He points to Kageyama’s plate—beautiful, as symmetrical as possibly _corner slice_ —and snorts. 

“Are you like, an idiot? You can’t just give this up!” 

“It’s cake dumb— _stupid_.” Hinata snickers; Kageyama either hated swearing or hated swearing at him in particular, but Hinata has almost gotten him to some pretty good ones. 

“Oikawa-san’s sister runs a bakery and gives me discounts for helping with her finances.” Kageyama, pink in the ears, swaps their plates with lightning fast hands. “I can get cake any time.” 

Hinata hides his smile behind his hand and trails happily behind Kageyama as he ventures back outside. A lone lounge chair sits half hidden by a few tall decorative palm trees, and Kageyama sits on it sideways, leaving room for Hinata to sit beside him. They eat in relative silence, the bubbling from the hot tub and the mini waterfall by the pool giving them a nice ambiance. 

“Hey, Kageyama?”

“Yeah?” 

It feels silly to ask, considering he far they’ve come in such a short time. Hinata never liked to question his good fortune, and he’s never wondered why any of his other friends have stuck around. Maybe it was because his feelings for Kageyama weren’t just that of a friend, or maybe it was because, after seeing all of the people he’d interacted with today, Hinata couldn’t understand what made him so special. 

“Why...why did you start talking to me?” He wrings his hands, trying not to curl in on himself. “Not that I didn’t want you to! It's just that you were always so quiet and reserved. Even at your games. And, after today I,” he shrugs with a little self-deprecating laugh. “You’re really cool and confident and I’m...not.” 

Yeah, no, that sounded way less whiny and needy in his head. He didn’t need Kageyama to feel suffocated by him. He really liked hanging out with him, but he wasn’t crying in his bed every time the other was busy with something. What did it matter anyway? They were already friends, good friends, and even if Hinata wasn’t always as confident as he made everyone think he was, he knew Kageyama would never judge him. 

A warm hand squeezes his bare shoulder and he looks up at Kageyama. His expression is complicated again, uncertainty mixed with amusement mixed with what Hinata might dare to call fondness. 

“Do you want a mathematical answer or one in layman’s terms?” Kageyama doesn’t laugh at him, which he appreciates. 

“Give it to me straight, Doc.” They both snort at that, setting each other off on a louder giggling fit. Hinata ends up hiding his face in his hands, unable to look at Kageyama without smiling so much his face hurts. Maybe that’s why he’s so incredibly unprepared for what he says next. 

“I’ve been like dropping hints that I like you.” 

Hinata’s head explodes into tiny orange pieces, scattering across the grounds and floating in the pool like cubes of cheddar cheese. 

At least that’s what it feels like. 

In reality he gets to his knees on the lounge chair and shakes Kageyama’s shoulders that tremble with stifled laughter. There’s a blush running across the bridge of his nose, and with his glasses—he’d put them on after their chicken fight victory—he looks even more like the shy, innocent athlete Hinata has been crushing on since he saw his first ever jump serve last October. How wrong he was back then. 

“Did you just MEME?!” 

“Yes.” And he’s _smiling_ , so broad and smug, that little shit! “I think that one is still popular. I looked—Oh! I forgot.” Kageyama’s smile grows soft as he ducks his head to look up at Hinata from under his bangs. “I like you.” 

“You suck! You’re not sophisticated st all!” Hinata’s face burns as he pushes even harder against his shoulders shoulders. His bare, tanned, sun warmed shoulder. Shoulders that had carried him like he didn’t weigh more than a sack of feathers. “You’re just a huge fucking dork disguised as a scholar!” 

_Holy shit he likes me holy shit holy shit holy shit!_

“Took you long enough to catch on.” Underneath his satisfaction is a layer of uncertainty, as if after everything that’s happened, Hinata would somehow reject him. As if he doesn’t know, hasn’t known for weeks, that Hinata’s heart beats double time whenever their eyes meet. For someone so smart, Kageyama was pretty dumb. 

“You are literally the worst ever,” Hinata sighs, right before he kisses him. He misses the mark entirely, lips landing on Kageyama’s cheek because the other man overcorrected the angle. They try again with a similar result. Hinata pulls back and levels a playful glare at him, at burning cheeks and bright blue eyes behind dark frames. At a smile that’s a little wobbly and self-conscious on one side and tilted up enthusiastically on the other, showing off a dimple that Hinata can’t resist poking his tongue into. 

It’s gonna take some practice to get things right, but Hinata is nothing if not determined.


End file.
